What Makes a Monster
by MonkeyVenom
Summary: Haji and Saya enjoy a book about a monster and his creator; she reflects and wonders if there is a connection. No established relationship, takes place during their time at the Zoo.


"Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge-" a young man read the book in his hands carefully, trying to give some sort of inflection to the words as he spoke aloud. Such efforts were in vain, as the woman across from him yawned.

"Haji, that's enough for today. I'm bored," she waved her hand, as if the action would cause the book to disappear from his hands. Instead, he frowned.

"Saya, if I may protest, we only just began the sixteenth chapter. At this rate, we will never finish the book-"

Giving him a pointed look, Saya stood up, smoothing out her skirts until the crisp fabric fell neatly to the floor. "Well, it is a boring book. I have no idea what Joel thinks, having you read to me like I am a child. I read plenty without any sort of assistance!"

Sighing, Haji placed a marker in the book, setting it neatly to the side. To be quite honest, he had been looking forward to reading this book. _Frankenstein_ was supposedly a good read, and if Joel had recommended it, then surely it was well-written. Still, Saya was in a mood, and no amount of soft words or persuasion could coax her out of it.

"Did you hear me, Haji? Why does Joel insist on treating me like I am a little girl? I am a fully grown woman, I certainly don't need to be read to," she stomped her foot, a clear contrast to her claims that she was mature. The young man had to think fast, running over a number of different responses. He chose his words carefully, so as to not heap her wrath upon himself.

"Perhaps, Saya, he just wants me to practice my own pronunciation skills? You know as well as I do that French is not my first language, and who better to judge me than you? Joel puts quite a bit of faith in your competence, so..." He trailed off, watching her facial expression carefully to make sure that his ploy worked.

Pondering his words for a moment, she huffed, "Well, that's fine, but he really should have just told me if that was the truth. I don't appreciate having things hidden from me, you know."

Haji sighed in relief, nodding, "Of course. Nothing gets past you, does it?"

Saya shook her head, grinning, "Why would it? I am far too clever to be so easily fooled! If Joel wanted me to gauge your pronunciation, he should have just told me!

"And besides, Haji, your language has always been good. I mean, what was it, Hungarian-"

"_Romanian_, Saya-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever – either way, you're a pretty good speaker, and you've got a good tone of voice. People listen to things like that. I would wager that even Amshel would say you're well-spoken."

He smiled slightly, knowing that such a thing would never be spoken by the older man. He was fairly certain that Amshel hated him with a passion, although Haji couldn't quite place why. He had asked Joel before if he had insulted his colleague in some way, but the old man assured him that Amshel was simply just set in his ways.

Saya took his silent contemplation as a victory on her part, smiling triumphantly. He chuckled, "Well, Saya, let me test you on a few of the points of this book, to see if you are actually paying attention. As you said, you are rather clever."

Still basking in the glow of her supposed victory, she nodded, "Alright, sure. Ask me anything, I can answer with absolute confidence and correctness." Haji smirked, opening the book, "Alright...well, who is the creator of the 'monster' in the book?"

"That's easy. It's Vincent Frankenstein!"

"_Victor_, Saya-"

"Starts with a 'V', same thing. Next question."

"Why is the monster that Vincent-" she made a face at the name, but he continued, "-created so wrathful toward his creator?"

Saya opened her mouth to answer, but closed it instead, contemplating the question. Her fingers clenched and released the fabric of her dress, causing minute wrinkles. "...It's...because people hate him, right? For some reason?"

He nodded, setting the book aside, "The monster has a human's heart, but his appearance drives him to isolation and loneliness. He never asked to be created, so I suppose that there is some bitterness there toward his creator for something unintentional."

She frowned, staring him down, "You suppose? Do you mean to tell me that you asked a question and didn't even know the answer to it for certain?"

"I asked the question because I wanted to hear it from your perspective. To be despised for something you cannot control, something that you were simply born as, I couldn't even imagine...Saya?" He stopped speaking, a dip of her head alerting him that something he had said had clearly upset her.

"...To be hated for something you can't control, that really must be awful," she murmured, keeping her rather blurry gaze trained to the floor. She could hear him shift in his seat for a moment before standing up, drawing near to her. The taller man knelt down beside her chair, the book having been discarded on the side table.

"Saya...it's just a book, with fictional characters doing fictional things. No one has created a monster, and even if they had, I'm sure that monster has found a perfectly fine home with those that care for him-"

"But what if the monster doesn't look like a monster? What if the monster looks just like everyone else?" Her eyes, warm and brown and swimming with tears, bore into his bluish-gray. He sighed softly, being bold and letting his hand rest over hers. "Just because something may or may not be a monster doesn't necessarily mean that the monster is evil. It could be very kind and gentle, and people are just too blind to see it. Please don't cry, Saya."

She stared at him for a very long moment, as if remembering something and regarding the information in relation to what he said. The young woman nodded wordlessly.

"...I do believe that is enough reading for today. How about this, we can go to the sitting room and I can play whatever song you'd like."

She sniffed slightly, smiling as she wiped her eyes, "Any song? Even if it's absolute nonsense?"

"I'll use the bow on the table as a percussion instrument if that would make you happy."

"Let's not. The last time you did that, I think Amshel nearly had a fit."

"All the more reason to, then."


End file.
